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15.09.2020

The Spanish Galleon

I was remembering by the sea,
on a warm sunny afternoon,
the story that my grandfather used to tell
about that old Spanish galleon.
I can see it,
an imposing sail,
its main mast towards the sky,
at the helm, its brave captain
drunk with saltpeter and rum.
 
(Chorus)
The Spanish galleon arrived,
leaving a wake in the sea,
its flag flying in the air,
a lone silhouette,
your world must be conquered.
 
Now many years have gone by
since that stormy day that it docked,
and you can still see
its compass balancing,
its main mast towards the sky.
 
Now that the voice of my grandfather
is no longer here on this warm sunny afternoon,
his beating heart is still felt
in the old Spanish galleon.
 
(Chorus)